


Love Bites - Perfectworldshipping Fic

by anamnesisapproaches



Category: Pokemon - Fandom
Genre: AU, Again, Alcohol, Blood, HERE I AM, Kissing, Love Bites, M/M, Night clubs?? I guess???, WHOOP DE DOO, because its a Vampire AU seriously what do you expect, commission uwu, do I really need to tag that, doing this instead, dont tear this fic apart I’m having trouble writing, dont worry, nothing too intense happens, perfworld stuff is hard to write, seriously I’m stuck, theyre drunk, vampire, wow i said I’d write five other fics before this and yet, writers block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 17:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19233613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamnesisapproaches/pseuds/anamnesisapproaches
Summary: Being a Vampire can be tough.Especially when your romantic partner has no clue that you are one, and thinks everything is normal when in reality you want to suck their blood.But yet, these thoughts can be quelled with a drink and some loud blaring music.





	Love Bites - Perfectworldshipping Fic

**Author's Note:**

> Please don’t judge it too hard, I’m in writer’s block—

Being a vampire isn’t the easiest thing in the world. One had to be very selective about what time of day they came out, what days they came out, and the amount of sunlight they got. Luckily, intense sunblocks were available at stores, allowing such beings to hide their identity as a bloodsucker. Sycamore was no different, a simple five minute trek in the sun to a bar having an almost scorching feeling on his body. 

Of course, Party bars weren’t exactly the Redhead or the Professor’s thing per se. they never really went out to party, and generally stayed in a secluded cafe of Lysandre’s ownage. However this very rare time, they decided to branch out and try a new place. So they selected the most secluded bar they could have possibly found, and settled down in a corner. It was in an alleyway inside of Lumiose. 

“Mon Amie, are you sure this is the right place?” Sycamore spoke innocently to his other, eyelids fluttering like little Vivillion’s in the summer sunset. The ginger nearly swooned at him, but nodded in reply while watching Sycamore put on loads of sunblock, while at the same time not really suspecting anything from it. They were already inside at that point, confusing him slightly over the slathering of sunblock. 

Nonetheless he passed this off as nothing. 

“I chose the most secluded bar I could find. You said you wanted a nice calm place to be, right?” Of course, he did not even wait for Sycamore to reply. He simply spoke his words calmly without caring about the bartender. “This bar is deserted. Not even a single soul will show up, we’ve just got it to ourselves.” And what a lie that was. Albeit Lysandre had no clue of the partying side of Lumiose, but it was a lie nonetheless. So, one by one, and sometimes in pairs, trainers gathered in the bar, and all brought out their Pokémon. Eventually the place was packed with people, and the lights became dim as various Pokémon began creating dazzling light shows for their trainers. Dozens of Loudred and Altaria worked together to sing and dance, making the chaotic movements upon the dance floor jump along with the heavy beat. The only two that remained seated were Sycamore and Lysandre, who questioned why they were still here. 

“Why did we even think coming here was a good idea…” Lysandre places his face in his hands. The amount of people present was absurd, making him stressed out. Luckily everyone was too drunk to understand that one of the richest people around was hanging out in this ragged old bar in an alley. Sycamore was mildly amused at the Ginger’s revelation, and let out a bright laugh. 

“I have no clue. I just don’t see why we won’t go up and dance.”

“What.”

“Well? We don’t normally get stuck in a disco bar full of drunken trainers that I originally gave Pokémon to long ago, now do we?” Lysandre wasn’t certain if he was being sarcastic or not, dumbfounded by the suggestion of such informal behavior. But then again, it was sycamore. The man was never formal, rarely ever making his hair look decent. Yet the odd choice of style and attitude allured Lysandre. Throwing decency and probably his lunch to the wind, the richer of the two bought some drinks before being pulled off to the dance floor. Being a lightweight on alcohol and blood, Sycamore was quick to metaphorically bow down to the booze, showing a slightly more childish side to his personality. The professor was quick to giggle, and smiled like an absolute dork. 

The bloodsucker chuckled. He was beginning to feel hungry.

“Come dance wit’ me~” Sycamore took Lysandre’s free hand and spun himself, his messy hair swirling perfectly with his body. Lysandre downed the rest of his drink before taking Sycamore in closer, bringing him into a hectic and drunken dance. They were off sync with the music, but so was everyone else in the dance floor. The punk rock wasn’t the best, and in reality, endless screaming of drunken trainers wasn’t the best ambience. And yet, here they were, having so much fun. Lysandre stepped closer, and Sycamore stumbled back, falling into Lysandre’s arms, and being pulled into a brilliantly steep dip. 

“You dance well... even if….” his deeply intoxicated mind lost its train of thought, staring at Sycamore’s confused yet happy face. “.......Even if you’re…. tipsy….” He was oddly composed for someone who had gotten one too many drinks. Sycamore’s sudden burst of incoherent laughter was like a flower blooming in a field of grass. Lysandre’s gaze wandered to various places. 

“Y-Yeah, I’m tipsy~” Sycamore stuttered, eyes glazed over yet somehow vividly alert. His smile was alluring. His posture, so seductive. It was odd how well Sycamore could charm the ginger. His eyes drew the man in closer, time stretching out yet passing so quickly. However he didn’t seem to care, noses both touching almost intimately. It wasn’t long before Lysandre felt himself stumbling to the sidelines with Sycamore, finding a decently hidden spot behind some curtains. There were a few other people mingling, but they paid no mind to the two people leaning against the wall as they slowly slide down. 

“Lyssy~” His sharp eyes attracted the man closer, paying full attention to Sycamore’s oddly golden gaze. It wasn’t normally like that. Not at all. Was he wearing contacts?

“Augustine…” Lysandre simply replied, cupping his cheek. The two held still for a moment. This moment was terrifying, yet thrilling. They both felt so ready to make out, but didn’t know if they should or not. After all, it was still public, and they hadn’t ever fully made out before. There were too many factors for their drunken minds to process. 

“May I?” He asked, and stared at the professor, licking his lips hungrily. Sycamore’s eyes avoided contact, trailing off to a vein in Lysandre’s neck. Though a slight nod of the head was followed with a soft sound of recognition. 

“Yes..”

Lysandre pressed a kiss to Sycamore’s thin lips, embracing the Professor with a firm hold. The larger of the two entwined his fingers in Sycamore's hair, scraping against the soft and tender scalp. Sycamore was losing himself, forgetting exactly what was happening. He was just hungry. They held in place for a long while before Sycamore pulled away, and began to kiss at Lysandre’s jaw, trailing little pecks down to his neck, where the man wrapped his fangs around Lysandre’s shoulder, and bit down as hard as he could. 

Lysandre felt himself practically become sober at that moment. He looked down at Sycamore and just stared at him with this strange expression that mixed shock, confusion, and sudden understanding into one look. He felt Sycamore lap up some blood which trickled down from the wound, watching as the Professor began to pull away, but occasionally lapping up a small drop that comes down from the bite mark. 

“Augustine.”

“Ah, ’m sorry—“ Sycamore pulled back and wiped his mouth, trying to make it seem like he did nothing at all. His tongue licked his lips absentmindedly. 

“Augustine, what.”

“Jus’ a habit, ahahaha…” his voice squeaked, cheeks having flushed red once more. Lysandre continued his confused stare. He could see nervous sweat building on Sycamore’s forehead, tension only growing with the passing of time. 

“Augustine Sycamore, tell me what just happened.” And thus, Sycamore swore he was having a heart attack. His hair fluffed up in fear, panic swelling inside his chest, that is until Lysandre cupped his cheek, and looked at the Professor in the eyes. “Relax, just tell me..” to make the other calm down, the taller pulled them both into an even more secluded sector of the bar, where no people resided. They both seemed to calm down after a hot moment, allowing Sycamore to take a few deep breaths before having to answer. 

“Lyssy, there‘s a reason I ‘din’t tell you—“

“That you’re…. I mean, how d’ you even have…. Fangs? Are you… What, a vampire??” Lysandre’s mind stuttered a little, still intoxicated, though somehow cutting through the alcohol’s haze to pay all his attention to the sweet and innocent vampire before him. A small bit of blood was on his left fang, which was now very visible. 

“Well, actually... yeah, sorta…”

Lysandre held his own face in one of his hands, sighing with a great heave from his chest. Sycamore would be feeling terrified beyond comprehension at the moment, except for the fact that the alcohol was messing with his mind, preventing the man from totally breaking down. 

“You couldave told me, you know.” 

“.........Really?”

“O’course.” Lysandre pulled Sycamore close once more, placing a kiss on his lips. He could taste a potent flavor of iron from the blood Sycamore had drank. It was unpleasant to him, but the other seemed to greatly desire it. “If you want, you can take some whenever you want~”

“Wait. Y’re not… Freaked out or… somethin’?” His speech slurred very slightly, hands flapping in front of the vampire as if trying to communicate nervousness. Lysandre chuckled deeply.

“Not at all, Gussy~” it was obvious that he was being too accepting of this whole situation, but in reality it would be better for the both of them. “Would y’ like to go dancing, or d’ya wanna keep at it~?” And with that, Sycamore's face turned bright red as he nodded violently, taking Lysandre’s hand and stiffly yet somehow fluidly walking off to the dance floor. 

Lysandre danced with Sycamore, not caring what kind of being he was or how he came to be like that. For it didn’t change much in the long run. On occasion, Lysandre would wake up in bed, and a tiny bit would be on his shoulder from Sycamore’s petite fangs. He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the little marks, their very presence tingling pleasantly. Lysandre brought a parasol everywhere he went on the occasion of Sycamore being out in the open sun. Since that day at the bar, Sycamore had looked a lot healthier, and a lot happier from the little love bites he gave.


End file.
